To Caroline, Viscountess Valletort Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDD EEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNN OOAA BBPPQQQ CCRSTTUU| WRITTEN AT LACOCK ABBEY JANUARY | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| When I would sing thy beauty's light | B |
| Such various forms and all so bright | B |
| I've seen thee from thy childhood wear | C |
| I know not which to call most fair | C |
| Nor 'mong the countless charms that spring | D |
| For ever round thee which to sing | D |
| - | |
| When I would paint thee as thou art | E |
| Then all thou wert comes o'er my heart | E |
| The graceful child in Beauty's dawn | F |
| Within the nursery's shade withdrawn | F |
| Or peeping out like a young moon | G |
| Upon a world 'twill brighten soon | G |
| Then next in girlhood's blushing hour | H |
| As from thy own loved Abbey tower | H |
| I've seen thee look all radiant down | I |
| With smiles that to the hoary frown | I |
| Of centuries round thee lent a ray | J |
| Chasing even Age's gloom away | J |
| Or in the world's resplendent throng | K |
| As I have markt thee glide along | K |
| Among the crowds of fair and great | L |
| A spirit pure and separate | L |
| To which even Admiration's eye | M |
| Was fearful to approach too nigh | M |
| A creature circled by a spell | N |
| Within which nothing wrong could dwell | N |
| And fresh and clear as from the source | O |
| Holding through life her limpid course | O |
| Like Arethusa thro' the sea | A |
| Stealing in fountain purity | A |
| - | |
| Now too another change of light | B |
| As noble bride still meekly bright | B |
| Thou bring'st thy Lord a dower above | P |
| All earthly price pure woman's love | P |
| And showd'st what lustre Rank receives | Q |
| When with his proud Corinthian leaves | Q |
| Her rose this high bred Beauty weaves | Q |
| - | |
| Wonder not if where all's so fair | C |
| To choose were more than bard can dare | C |
| Wonder not if while every scene | R |
| I've watched thee thro' so bright hath been | S |
| The enamored muse should in her quest | T |
| Of beauty know not where to rest | T |
| But dazzled at thy feet thus fall | U |
| Hailing thee beautiful in all | U |
Thomas Moore
(1)
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